Too Quiet
by InsideOutlaw
Summary: Written for a challenge. Two men, two different ways of dealing with heartache.


Heyes didn't know what had awakened him. It wasn't unusual. Many nights he would rise to consciousness, fully awake, and his brain furiously working. With a sigh, he threw back the cotton blanket and sat up, swinging his feet around and dangling them over the side of the bed. He scratched at his long johns and ran his hands through his hair, trying to peer through the shadows surrounding him. Everything was in its place as it should be. There was no reason for him to rouse; not as exhausted as he'd been when he'd fallen into the soft feather bed that dominated the sparsely-furnished room.

He knew from long experience that it was no use trying to fall back asleep. Standing up, he shuffled his way to the front door of the leader's cabin and stepped outside. The Full Buck moon glistened brightly overhead and there was enough silvery light to define the tall cottonwoods that loomed over his home.

Home? No, it wasn't home, but it was all they had. He didn't like the direction of those thoughts and he felt a flush of anxiety.

He could hear the soft snoring emanating from his partner's room and seeping through the rippled pane of glass in the window next to the porch. Quietly, he pulled on the muddy boots he'd discarded the previous night before entering the cabin. He crept down the stairs, wincing at every creaking step, and walked across the dusty yard towards the trail to the outhouse.

**********

The Kid didn't know what had awakened him, but he knew something was amiss. He rolled over onto his back and listened to the chirrups of the crickets and the atonal concert of the bullfrogs that lived in the Hole's reedy wetlands. The ceiling above his head was lost in the darkness and he turned his attention to the window next to his bed. The familiar gray form of his partner passed by and he knew Heyes was on the prowl again. He sighed.

**********

Exiting the privy, Heyes wandered down to the creek and sat listening to the gurgling and splashing of the water for a long time hoping that it would anesthetize his mind and dull his senses. It didn't. He paid a late-night visit to the barn, walking down the aisle way, and disturbing the sleeping occupants. One or two beasts rose to their feet and their glossy heads appeared over the half-doors. A few nickers were issued, plainly hopeful that they were about to receive a midnight snack. Disappointed, their sleepy eyes followed his progress as he strolled down the corridor and disappeared through the wide, double doors that had been left open to the sultry night.

His meanderings took him past the bunkhouse where he could hear Kyle talking in his sleep again and he paused by the opened window to see if he could make out what his small friend was mumbling. It sounded like he was alternating between wooing a hesitant woman and sweet-talking a fizzled bundle of dynamite into performing. Heyes chuckled silently. Good old Kyle always ran true to form.

Feeling awkward at eavesdropping on his unsuspecting gang, he continued on towards the meadow. A small herd of mule deer were grazing near the far side of it, keeping close to the sheltering willows that surrounded the expanse. Heyes stretched out on the dewy grass, disturbing the night noises, and stared at the sky overhead. The stars glowed faintly, competing with the brilliant moon, and he could clearly see clouds passing by. His ears picked up the delicate munching of the deer and the sounds of their progress. They knew he was there and they were keeping an eye on him, but he didn't pose a threat yet so they tolerated his presence.

He began counting backwards from a thousand; anything to stop his mind from kicking in and thoughts from forming. He knew that he had to keep himself distracted; knew he couldn't handle the darkness that was threatening to rise from within him. He had just counted down to three hundred and seventy-six when he heard telltale footsteps drawing near. He listened as they paused at the edge of the meadow and then continued on towards him. A moment later, the Kid dropped down next to him and flopped back beside him.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?"

"Nope," said Heyes.

"How come?"

"Don't know, just couldn't."

"I woke up when you went to the john."

"Sorry, I thought I was being quiet."

"You were bein' quiet. That's the problem. You were too quiet. You've been too quiet for a while now. What's botherin' you, Heyes?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, I know the signs. Something's eatin' at you and I'm pretty sure I know what it is." The Kid looked over at Heyes, trying to see him clearly in the gloom of the night.

"I don't want to talk about it." Heyes' voice betrayed his agitation.

"All right, then, I'll tell you what's wrong," said Curry, sitting up and ripping out a long blade of grass, running it through his fingers. "It's been twelve years, Heyes. I ain't forgotten. Twelve years next week, and you still can't talk to me about it."

Heyes jumped to his feet, his hands forming tightly-curled fists. "Shut up, Kid."

"No, I ain't shuttin' up. That's what you do. You shut up and you keep all the poison inside you where it can fester and grow ugly."

"I told you before; I'm not talking to you about this." Heyes started to walk away towards the deer and they spooked, melting into the willows.

"Suit yourself, but you're making a mistake."

Heyes stopped and turned around abruptly, angry now. "I'm not afraid of making mistakes, Kid; I've made a lot of them."

Curry laughed, "You sure have and I'm bettin' you'll keep right on makin' 'em."

"Like you haven't?"

Getting to his feet, the Kid walked to his partner and placed a hand on one of Heyes' tense shoulders. He didn't say anything for a second or two; he just peered into the sad, brown eyes looking at him with a touch of fear. Heyes only feared one thing, and he knew what that was. "I reckon I have, but the one mistake I haven't made is believin' that I could make the pain go away by not rememberin'." Heyes looked away, but he continued on, "I think about them all the time and, yes, sometimes it hurts and I hate it, but I know that I can't choose what I remember and I damn well ain't willin' to forget them just because I'm afraid of hurtin'." He gripped Heyes' shoulder harshly and gently shook his partner.

"Remember them, Heyes, remember it all, and you'll soon find that you can let go of the bad memories. The good ones will take their place." His hand dropped off Heyes' shoulder and he shook his head. "Think about it." Turning, he walked away towards the cabin lights.

Heyes watched him go, watched the slice of bright light illuminate the cabin door as it opened and closed; watched the same light go out a moment later and then he felt the darkness surround him.

It was quiet again, far too quiet.

**Note: Some Native American cultures refer to July's full moon as the Full Buck moon as this is the time of year that the male deers' antlers grow in.**


End file.
